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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27242575">Wrong but Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime'>merelypassingtime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fluff, M/M, Texting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:13:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27242575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bucky receives a text from a wrong number and doesn’t mind at all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wrong but Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fair warning:<br/>It took a long time for me to let this story go.<br/>Originally it was going to be the start of a longer fic that I don’t have the wherewithal to write right now.<br/>You can still see the bones of that larger story here, but I think it reads okay as a one shot, albeit with a somewhat unsatisfying end.<br/>Thanks for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The host of the show looked grave as he shined his flashlight at something on the ceiling while the young, harried looking couple watched.<br/>
The captions at the bottom of the screen said something about shifting foundation and expensive repairs that Bucky didn’t bother fully reading before he flicked the channel again, then again quickly when the next channel was showing the news.</p>
<p>Even with the sound off the TV was almost too much for his frayed nerves tonight, and only the thought of lying awake dreading his dreams kept him on the couch instead of in bed. That and Steve had said he might text him.</p>
<p>Not that it was unusual for Steve to text him, he did most nights, but it was odd that he’d specifically mentioned it. Bucky guessed that had to do with how poorly he’d hidden his nervousness about the assessment appointment he had in the morning. </p>
<p>Not that he wasn’t thrilled as he’d been accepted into the Wakandan Outreach Center’s medical prosthesis program, he was just equally terrified that for some reason it wouldn’t work out and he’d have to spend the rest of his life making do with just the one arm he had left. He hadn’t counted on how sharp the hope for a new arm would feel on top of his already jagged emotions.</p>
<p>He was on the verge of turning off the TV and going out for a walk when his phone finally pinged with a new text. </p>
<p>Picking it up with a sigh of relief, he swiped the screen to open the message from Steve. Only it wasn’t a message but a picture and it was definitely not of Steve. </p>
<p>Instead an incredibly good looking guy in an unbelievably tight purple shirt smirked up from the screen.</p>
<p>Bucky’s brain shut down, all his thoughts replaced by the phrase ‘holy fuck’ on repeteing on a loop. It took several seconds before he could tear his eyes away from the picture long enough to glance at the top of the screen to confirm that, no, the text was not from Steve but from an unknown number. He also noticed there was a message under the picture that read, <i>Hey, handsome.</i></p>
<p>Bucky snorted more than a little bitterly at the further proof that the text wasn’t meant for him. No one would call him handsome these days.</p>
<p>After a last long look at the hot guy in the picture, Bucky typed a reply, <b>Sorry, but you have the wrong number.</b></p>
<p>He expected that to be the end of it, but before he could even lock his screen he got another message from the unknown number. </p>
<p><i>Aw, rejection, no!</i> said the next message followed by a string of crying faces. <i>And he seemed so sincere too.</i></p>
<p>‘He’ Bucky thought, with a spark of hope that was quickly crushed by his common sense. </p>
<p><b>Maybe it was an honest mistake,</b> he texted back.</p>
<p>
  <i>Nah, it’s cool. I should’ve guessed it would happen, he was way out of my league anyhow.</i>
</p>
<p>Bucky started to type <b>I don’t think that’s physically possible</b> then deleted it.</p>
<p>While he was trying to think of something less creepy to say his phone dinged again. <i>I should have figured out it was a prank when he told me to text him with a pic. Sorry about that.</i></p>
<p><b>Don’t worry about it. It was the highlight of my day,</b> Bucky wrote, then sent before he could second guess himself again.</p>
<p>
  <i>Sorry, you must’ve had such a shitty day then.</i>
</p>
<p>In fact, it had been a shitty day, but still the guy’s self deprecation rubbed Bucky the wrong way. Almost angrily he typed, <b>Did you even look at that pic before you sent it?! That would be the highlight of anybody’s day at the very least, more likely their whole week. Possibly their month.</b></p>
<p><i>Really?</i> the guy replied along with a bunch of smiling emojis.</p>
<p>
  <b>Hell yeah. I think I’m gonna make it my lock screen so you and your amazing arms can brighten all my days.</b>
</p>
<p>There was a long pause and Bucky worried he’d gone too far, then a message came in. A picture message. One of the guy now shirtless, grinning at the camera, his bright blue eyes shining.</p>
<p>The message beneath the shot said, <i>Here, now you have one for your homescreen too.</i></p>
<p>“Fuck,” Bucky said, running his thumb over the screen reverantly. <b>I don’t know if I should use this as my homescreen, I do occasionally use my phone in public.</b></p>
<p>
  <i>Hey! Are you saying my amazing arms aren’t fit for polite company?!</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>No, I’m saying that while looking at your truly amazing arms, I wouldn’t fit for polite company.</b>
</p>
<p><i>Oh, well then…</i> the message read, followed by another picture, this time of a one eyed yellow dog at a park, a long foam stick in his mouth.</p>
<p>
  <i>This is my dog Lucky. He’s more safe for work.</i>
</p>
<p><b>He’s adorable!</b> Bucky texted honestly. <b>Is that a foam arrow he’s carrying?</b></p>
<p>
  <i>Yeah! Isn’t that awesome? A friend of mine made those and a bow to fire them for me and Lucky.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Why? Wait, are you secretly Robin Hood? Is Lucky one of your Merry Men?</b>
</p>
<p>The reply started with several laughing emojis. <i>Yeah, sorta. I’ve been practicing archery since I was a kid.</i></p>
<p>
  <b>That’s cool. What got you into archery?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Would you believe I ran away and joined the circus when I was a boy?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Probably not.</b>
</p>
<p>The conversation flowed naturally from there, full of light banter and not a little flirting. Bucky didn’t even notice how much time had passed until his phone screen went black, it’s battery dead.</p>
<p>He hurried to his nightstand to plug it in, relieved when it came back on to display two more texts waiting for him.</p>
<p>
  <i>Well, I’m sorry, but if you can’t agree that country music peaked in the 60s I don’t think we can be friends.</i>
</p>
<p>Then, timestamped a few minutes later, <i> Fuck. I was kidding. You don’t have to like country.</i></p>
<p>Bucky smiled as he texted back, <b>Good, because I don’t. But I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. My phone died and I had to plug it in.</b></p>
<p>
  <i>Shit. Mine’s on red and I don’t remember where I left my charger.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>That’s okay, I probably should go anyway. I have an appointment in the morning.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Yeah, I can’t believe how late it is! Nat’s gonna kill me if I’m late again tomorrow.</i>
</p>
<p>Bucky wanted to ask who Nat was, but knew he shouldn’t. Still, with the conversation about to end he felt unaccountably hollow inside.</p>
<p>While he was puzzling that out, his phone buzzed again.</p>
<p>
  <i>Hey, feel free to say no, but can I text you again? This has been fun.</i>
</p>
<p>Bucky could breathe again, and he didn’t hesitate to reply, <b>Yes, That’d be great.</b></p>
<p>
  <i>Awesome. My name is Clint btw, in case you want to save me in your contacts.</i>
</p>
<p><b>I already have you saved as Sexy Stranger,</b> Bucky texted truthfully, <b>but I guess I could change it.</b></p>
<p>He bit his lip, then, boldly added, <b>And my name is Bucky.</b></p>
<p>The next message was a half dozen emojis that were laugh-crying and the demand, <i>Bucky?! Really!?!</i></p>
<p>He thought about looking for an emoji of his own, one that was rolling its eyes, but decided against it. It was already hard enough to txt with one hand without adding more steps. He could only hope his sarcasm would come through without them.</p>
<p>
  <b>If I were lying, do you think Bucky is the name I’d have picked?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Okay, fair enough. I’ll change your name to Bucky from ‘Steve from the bar’.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Wait, the guy who gave you this number was named Steve?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Yeah?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Was he tall and blonde?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Yeah…</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Fuck.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i> Wait, was that you after all?!</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b> No! But Steve is my best friend.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He is?</i>
</p>
<p><b>Yes,</b> Bucky punched out angrily. <b>My asshole, soon to be dead best friend.</b></p>
<p>
  <i>LOL! Do you think he gave me your number on purpose?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Yes! He said he was gonna text me tonight, then you did. With a picture no guy on Earth could resist.</b>
</p>
<p><i>Well, he did say I should make it a good pic,</i> Clint replied with a winky face.</p>
<p>
  <b>He’s a punk like that.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Joke’s on him though, isn’t it? It turned out pretty well, didn’t it?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Yeah, but now I can’t brag all about chatting with a hot guy to him tomorrow.</b>
</p>
<p><i>You were gonna brag about talking to me?</i> Clint asked, followed by several sets of eye emojis that somehow conveyed a raised eyebrow.</p>
<p>
  <b>Hell yeah I was! I never get this lucky.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Well, you haven’t gotten lucky with me...yet.</i>
</p>
<p>Bucky laughed, almost surprising himself with the sound. <b>Smooth. So smooth. Forget Sexy Stranger, I’m making your contact name Cool Clint.</b></p>
<p>
  <i>And I’m naming you Lucky Bucky.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Not to be confused with just regular Lucky?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Believe it or not, regular Lucky rarely texts me.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <b>And they say dogs are supposed to be so loyal.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I know, right?!</i>
</p>
<p>Bucky smiled, then glanced at the time on the corner of his screen. <b>Sorry, but I really do need to get some sleep.</b></p>
<p>
  <i>Yeah, me too. Can I still text you again sometime?</i>
</p>
<p><b>Of course!</b> Bucky typed. He almost added, <b>I can’t wait!</b> but he didn’t want to look desperate. Instead, he finished a bit lamely, <b>Goodnight, Cool Clint.</b></p>
<p>
  <i>‘night, Lucky Bucky. Sleep well.</i>
</p>
<p>And, miraculously, Bucky actually did.</p>
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